


Irreversible Changes

by Galaxxaure



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, More descriptive than narrative, My first fic in years, Night Court - Freeform, Post-ACOFAS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24936031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxxaure/pseuds/Galaxxaure
Summary: Elain had spent the last five years of her life trying to accept that she was fae now. Yet it felt like a part of her would always long to be that girl from the village, who enjoyed planting flowers around her house, and living  a life of balls and simplicity.
Relationships: Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra, Elain Archeron/Lucien Vanserra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Irreversible Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is my first fic in years so please bare with. I have a few ideas of other parts to go with this, but for now this is just a one shot :)
> 
> Please let me know if you find any grammatical errors!

Lucien watched as her honey-brown hair delicately framed her face, a few odd strands sticking out in the humidity of her greenhouse. She was exquisite, a statement he had decided on long ago, and only kept him desperate for more of her affection.

Of which, he had very little.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew as soon as Feyre told him how Graysen had shattered Elain’s heart that he would be waiting a long time for her heart to heal. While his own experience of losing a lover was under much different circumstances, he understood the gash that seems to tear through your heart. He had needed time, to both accept that Jesminda was gone, and to learn how to be solo again, no longer a duo.

When Elain had been pulled out of the Cauldron, and he’d felt that bond snap between them, that _desire_ to become a pair rather than solo had overwhelmed him. Not even Jes had made him feel like that. With Jes, he could work just as well alone as he could with her. When it came to Elain, he hoped for a day when it would never just be him ever again.

Elain suddenly turned towards him, now aware of the presence of the red-headed fae. He had not interfered with her gardening, that she always made sure to do at least once every day. Instead, he had watched as she had worked.

“I did not know you were visiting,” she softly called to him. “How do the human lands fare?”

Lucien blinked out of his trance, and for a moment, all he could do was simply stare into Elain’s misty-blue eyes, just slightly more grey than Feyre’s, though not as much as Nesta’s. He looked her over, noticing her dirt-covered dress and hands. Did she not use the gloves he gave her on solstice all those years ago? He had never noticed them anywhere, let alone actually being worn. In his mind, he cursed himself. Clearly, though he had tried to get her a gift that she would enjoy with what little he knew about her, he had failed miserably.

Eventually, he found his voice.

“All is well,” he said as steadily as he could. “Vassa and Jurian lead well, and the towns seem happy to follow them.” Elain tilted her head downwards slightly in acknowledgment of what he said. One of those towns he mentioned would be her own, she was sure of it, and in turn, Graysen’s.

It had been five years since the war, and yet there was still that small part of her that called for her ex-betrothed. She cursed it, hated it with the rest of her being, but it lingered. Feyre always commented that her kindness and gentleness was a strength that was often in short supply, yet it only made Elain feel weaker. She didn’t want to still feel a tenderness for a man who could not accept her after an irreversible change that she had no control over. 

Yet here she was, five years later, and still it held her back.

Lucien was a good male. That sentence had perhaps been repeated to her a hundred times over by nearly every member of her sister’s Inner Circle (nearly being everyone but Amren). And Elain knew that. She knew that in the grand scheme of things, an outsider could easily analyse her situation and declare how fortunate the cards were that she had been dealt. If she were to ever accept the mating bond, her mate would treat her equally and fairly, and judging by the longing look she tried to ignore in Lucien’s eyes, perhaps eventually love too.

And Elain could admit that perhaps her treatment of him could be seen as unfair at times. He had not wronged her, her sister perhaps, but never her personally. But that part of her, the part that still grieved her human life, refused to try with him. Because that would be the final surrender. To accept him, to court a fae male, would be admitting defeat to the fact that she was now fae and immortal and could never go back to the woman from six years ago. 

She couldn’t even call herself a woman anymore, she thought with slight bitterness. She was now a female, not a woman.

And so Elain found herself rising to her feet, and as steadily as she could, walking past Lucien to the door out of the greenhouse. And as their arms nearly brushed, Elain could practically feel her soul crying out for Lucien’s, her fae instincts nearly going into overdrive. But she drove them down, and walked away.

As she always did.


End file.
